


Exotic Daddy

by Jack_Wilder



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Brock wants a daddy, Dubious Consent, M/M, RAPE!!! DO NOT READ IF THIS TRIGGERS YOU!!!, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sam's milkshake brings all the boys to the yard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-10
Updated: 2017-09-10
Packaged: 2018-12-25 23:51:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12046911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jack_Wilder/pseuds/Jack_Wilder
Summary: Sam never knew his good looks would ever put him in such a situation or that he would ever be called that title again.





	Exotic Daddy

**Author's Note:**

> This fic contains RAPE!!!
> 
> Please heed the warnings and steer clear if this will trigger you in any way possible or if it is not your cup of tea!!
> 
> In my opinion rape or any form sexual assault whether it is done to a male or female, young or old is one for the worse crimes in the world. Sexual predators deserve slow and very painful deaths.
> 
> Italics - flashback
> 
> Non-italics - Present day
> 
> Y'all should know the drill by now: If you see any errors, please to GENTLY & POLITELY point them out to me.
> 
> ENJOY!!!
> 
> I DO NOT own any of the characters in the fic below. This is written purely for the enjoyment of the writer and the reader. No profit is being made from this or any of my other works.

“You are so fucking _exotic_.” Brock Rumlow said into Sam Wilson’s ear as he rode the man he had zip tied to the chair. “I’ve had my eyes on you since that all out brawl on the bridge in Washington. Wanted to know what it would feel like to lie on my back, spread my legs and have you fuck my ass.”

Sam jerked his head to the side, knowing that he could not go far, but wanted the hot breath of the man who was currently violating him off his skin.

“And you are fucking sick.” He spat.

Brock eased back so that he could look at Sam’s face; his eyes screaming all the ways he was going to murder Brock.

“But I thought you liked it, _daddy_.” Brock smiled smugly when Sam’s body jerked beneath his and he turned his head to the side, face hot with shame and his eyes closed tight as he remembered another white man, calling him ‘ _daddy.’_

* * *

_Sam, Steve and Bucky had been chasing a H.Y.D.R.A. lead in what was a recent and hurriedly abandoned warehouse, when he had gotten separated from them. He had gotten locked in a room and was looking for a way out when he was hit on the head from behind and lost consciousness._

_Three hours later he had awoken to Brock’s smug face._

_“Fucking hell.” He groaned, pain radiating throughout his head. “I thought you were dead. Didn’t a building fall on you?”_

_If possible, Brock’s smile became even more smug._

_“Well, good thing for me I was able to get out before I was completely buried.”_

_Sam gave him a flat look. “Yeah, a real good thing.” Was his sarcastic reply._

_“You know,” Brock rose from the chair he was sitting in, across from Sam and approached him. “I really do like you. You are so witty and I like a sharp mind.”_

_“Ok, great, since you like me so much, then how about you cut these ties?” Sam tugged against the zip ties that were binding his wrists together behind the chair he had awoken in._

_“No can-do Sammy Boy.”_

_And Sam startled at that; only one other man had ever called him by that nickname._

_“What?” Brock crouched down so that he was on the same eye level with Sam. “Don’t like me calling you ‘Sammy Boy?’” He tilted his head, a sly smile on his face, “then how about ‘daddy?’” He whispered and Sam reared back, his face a mask of incredulity._

_“Don’t you dare, you sick fuck.” He growled, that damn title, bringing up memories that were unwanted in this situation. Memories what would be tainted by this man._

_“That’s not a nice thing to call your good little boy.” Brock said as he slowly straddled Sam’s lap; his face and voice a mask of innocence._

_Sam pressed himself back into the chair as Brock pressed himself even more into his body, so that they were touching from chest to groin._

_“Get off me Rumlow.” Sam said, his face stone as he looked steadily to the side and not at the man who was slowly grinding against him._

_Brock rested his forehead against Sam’s temple, whispering in his ear, “but I want to feel you daddy.” He gave a pointed thrust. “I want to feel your hard, black cock, wreck my little boy pussy, **daddy**.” Sam squeezed his eyes shut, willing away an image of a past life, of another man with filth dripping from his tongue into Sam’s ear as he fucked him hard._

_Before Sam could spit out a biting retort, Brock **slithered** off his lap to kneel in front of him and Sam knew what was going to happen._

_“Don’t you fucking dare you Nazi.” Sam growled, as Brock unzipped his pants, revealing his choice of underwear. Brock gave him a delish grin as he began stroking Sam through his tight, boxer-briefs._

_Sam was tense, trying his best not to react to the stimulation Brock was providing but knew he was failing from the Cheshire cat grin on his smug face._

_“We are only human; slave to our biology and physical needs.” Brock said as he took Sam’s soft cock out of his under. Slowly lowering his head to it, maintaining eye contact with Sam, Brock licked a hot stripe from his balls to the tip and felt his prisoner’s hips jump at the sensation._

_“Brock,” Sam leaned his head back, staring up at the bare ceilings and harsh fluorescent bulbs above him. “Stop this.” He was struggling to maintain his composure and he **did not**_ _want this. He did not want to be violated; and by this man especially._

_“No.”_

_That was all the answer he got before Brock deep throated him with no warning._

_“Holy fucking hell!” Sam’s hips jerked, but Brock held them down as he sucked his cock like a professional cocksucker and Sam could not help but think back to affectionately calling his former love a ‘professional cocksucker.’ Tears streamed down his face as he began to thrash, trying to dislodge Brock from his cock as he was getting hard._

_Brock chuckled darkly and the vibrations sent fires of pleasure burning down Sam’s spine._

_Sam tried kicking out, but it was futile as his ankles were each tied to a chair leg. “Get away from me you sick fuck!” He was breathing hard from both pleasure and anger. Murderous intentions blazing in his eyes as he glared at Brock who simple smiled as he finally allowed Sam’s cock to slide from his mouth, a string saliva still connecting them._

_“It’s ok daddy.” Brock got to his feet and began undoing his own pants as Sam stared in horror. “It will feel good for both of us very soon.” He dropped his pants and underwear and Sam turned his head, not wanting to look anymore._

_He felt Brock’s weight settle in his lap once more and felt both their erections rub together. Sam bit his lip and tasted copper on his tongue._

_Brock began a slow grind again, planting kisses up his neck, along his jaw to his ear where he whispered, “I can’t wait to feel you inside me daddy.”_

_Sam shuddered in revulsion and wished that he could empty his gun’s ammunition on his tormentor’s head._

_As Brock sucked bruises in the skin of Sam’s neck and collar bone, he began to finger himself. “Ahh, daddy, I am stretching my little boy pussy for you. It’s just for you daddy, no one else.”_

_“Go to hell Rumlow.” Sam growled out and tried to head-butt Brock, who moved out of the way._

_He was three fingers deep and moaning in Sam’s ear who was helpless not to react to the sensations and sounds._

_Sam who was helpless to restrain memories of another man, stretching himself open to accept Sam’s wide girth._

_Sam who was helpless to prevent Brock’s tight heat from engulfing his cock in one single downward movement._

_He made the instinctive move to try and grab Brock’s hips to steady him when his wrists did not move and remembered exactly what was happening._

_“I am going to fucking kill you.” He growled into Brock’s ear._

_Brock moved his head back, his face flushed and a fine sheen of sweat already covering his skin. “Oh yeah? Try saying that after this moment we are about to share. Having given himself enough time to adjust to Sam’s impressive width and length, Brock began riding him as if his life depended on it._

_Sam in the meantime was biting his lip, to the extent that blood was running down his chin and Brock licked it up._

_“Come on daddy.” He rested his forehead against Sam’s. “Tell me what a good boy I am.”_

_Sam remained stubbornly quiet, refusing to make a sound, but Brock only took that as a challenge and doubled his efforts._

_He grabbed Sam’s face with both his hands, forcing Sam to look him in his eyes. “Tell me that I am your good boy.” He slammed himself down on Sam’s cock and rotated his hips and that movement made Sam break and he moaned. The triumphant look on Brock’s face made Sam’s blood burn with shame._

_“You are a fucking disease.” Sam whispered as tears ran down his face, memories of the other man beginning to fade as Brock corrupted them._

_“I can just imagine all the boys you had flocking you, with your exotic features; pretty dark brown eyes and killer body. Bet you had to beat them off with a stick.”_

_“Rather beat you to death, but, no, you deserve to die a slow, painful, horrible death.” His words were venom and they seemed to be having an effect on Brock who was no longer smiling._

_Sam wanted to break him. “You are not my good little boy. My little boy is dead, you are just a spoilt child taking something that does not belong to you.”_

_The look on Brock’s face was one of unadulterated anger and he began riding Sam harder, who was no longer trying to mask his moans. He dropped his forehead so that it rested on Brock’s shoulder, tears running down his face as his body sung with pleasure._

_The building in which Brock was holding Sam hostage was filled with the sounds of their moaning and skin slapping skin._

_“Tell me I am your good boy.” Brock whispered fervently. “Tell me daddy!” If possible, his movements sped up and Sam knew he was going to hell for the small part of him that was enjoying the unwanted pleasure._

_Brock held up Sam’s head so that he could see his face, but Sam stared straight ahead, not meeting his eyes._

_Brock looked stricken. “Tell me. Please daddy. Please.”_

_And that soft plea is what did it for Sam._

_“You’re my good boy Brock.” Sam said, not caring that he had just killed the last memory he had of his other good boy before this encounter._

_The smile which broke out on Brock’s face was blinding and Sam had the maddening thought that he looked beautiful when he genuinely smiled before Brock slammed their mouths together._

_Sam may have been responding to the pleasure and he may have given into Brock’s begging, **but**_ _his lips, his kisses were for one man only and that man was dead. He stubbornly kept his lips firmly shut much to the annoyance of Brock who said nothing but kept moving up and down on Sam’s cock._

_“I want you to come in me daddy. I want you to mark me as yours.”_

_“You are a sick fuck and this is **rape**.”_

_Brock raised an eyebrow, as well as his ass so that only the head of Sam’s cock remained in his abused hole. “It’s not rape if you are enjoying it.” He said, and then savagely slammed down, making Sam moan loudly, while Brock threw his head back and **howled**. That one movement made Sam’s cock hit his abused prostate and he came hard; his hot semen splashing on Sam’s uniform flight shirt, making a mess. _

_Both men were breathing hard and Sam felt that he was still hard in Brock’s ass._

_“Don’t worry.” Brock kissed his temple and Sam wanted nothing more than to rip his throat out. “I will take care of you daddy.”_

_He got up on shaky legs, and like before sank down to his knees between Sam’s spread legs._

_“Got myself a real beautiful daddy here.” He commented before swallowing his stiff cock in one go. It took only two sucks from Brock for Sam to come down his throat._

_Brock got to his feet, chuckling as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Well that was fun.” He grabbed his pants from the floor where he had dropped it earlier and began redressing. “I would suggest round two, but your friends will be here any minute at that statement, Sam’s head snapped up, his eyes wide. “I was unable to turn off your tracker and the jammer only works for so long.”_

_He was dressed again, looking much like the cocky son of a bitch that he is and he stared down at Sam, his eyes raking over his dishevelled appearance. Brock walked over to him and bent at the waist so that he could look him in the eyes._

_“I had a great time daddy. We should do it again.” He turned Sam’s heading, placing a gentle kiss on his cheek before walking away. Sam heard a metal door open and closed; then it was just him and encompassing silence which was closing in on him._

_He sat there, still zip tied to the chair with, his shirt covered in Brock’s cum, his pants undone with his soft cock on display. He didn’t even know how he was going to explain to Steve and Bucky that Brock had gotten the jump on him and raped him, when a door was suddenly slammed open and he jumped._

_“Sam!” The unmistaken voice of Bucky called out to him and he heard heavy footsteps running towards him. “Sam! Are you-” Bucky’s voice immediately died from the shock of seeing the state and condition that Sam was in._

_Sam slowly lifted his head, his eyes glistening with tears._

_“Sam, who did this?” Bucky whispered, as if speaking any louder would break him. His eyes not staying still as he looked Sam over._

_“Can you-” Sam’s voice broke as a tear fell down his face. “Can you cut me loose?”_

_That snapped Bucky into action, he cursed as he holstered his gun and took out a wicked looking knife, efficiently cutting Sam loose from the chair._

_“Help me up please.”_

_Bucky did as asked, going as far as to pull Sam’s underwear and pants back up, refastening them and even giving him his jacket to cover the mess that was his shirt._

_“Thanks.”_

_“Sam, can you tell me who did this?” Bucky asked gently, trying to catch his friend’s eyes who refused to look at him._

_He shook his head._

_“Sam, come on. Please tell me.”_

_Hearing those words, brought fresh tears to Sam’s eyes and he leaned into Bucky, who immediately wrapped his arms around him, holding him close as he silently cried._

_“Don’t tell Steve.” Sam said, not looking at Bucky once his tears had dried. He knew that Bucky wanted to argue, but he was also loyal to Sam would not go against his wishes._

_“Alright, but you need to tell me who did this so that I can kill them.”_

_Sam smiled weakly, “sure, one day, but not today.”_

* * *

It had been seven months since that day and Sam had kept quiet about who had violated him; Bucky kept quiet as well, backing off completely until the day Sam would be ready to give him a name.

Sam stood by his living room window, watching as the rain poured down. The clock on the wall read 3:15 a.m. He had awoken two hours ago, from another dream of Brock violating him, but this time it felt so _real_ ; as if someone was in the room with him, but doing a thorough sweep of his house, he came up empty.

Just as he gave a world weary sighed and resigned himself to going back to bed and attempting to fall asleep again the light went out.

“Fucking hell.” He groaned, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the sudden darkness before making his way slowly and carefully upstairs. Once in his room he closed the bedroom door and walked over to his bed. Just as he was about to get in the hairs on the back of his neck stood up and he slowly turned around, his eyes making out a figure in the dark.

“Hello _daddy_.”

**_ The End. _ **


End file.
